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She nodded grimly. They lifted off.
It was too noisy to carry on a conversation, but there was nothing to say anyway. The Leonards clung to each other while Lara monitored the girl’s blood pressure and pulse. She trusted that Key knew how to reach the heliport at Mother Frances Hospital. He had slipped on a headset; she saw his lips moving against the mouthpiece.
He turned and shouted back at her, “I found their frequency and am talking to the trauma team. They want to know her vital signs.”
“Blood pressure fifty over thirty and falling. Pulse one forty and thready. Tell them to alert a vascular surgeon and an orthopedic specialist. She’ll eventually need both. I’ve started an IV.”
“Did you give her an anticoagulant?”
She’d debated that but had decided against it. “She’s too young. The bleeding is temporarily under control.”
Key transmitted the information. Lara continued to check Letty’s blood pressure, breathing, and pulse. She strove for objectivity but it was difficult when the patient was this young, this helpless, and this seriously injured.
Occasionally Marion would reach over and touch her unconscious daughter’s hair or stroke her cheek. Once she ran her thumb across Letty’s plump toes. That distinct maternal gesture wrenched Lara’s heart.
As the outskirts of the city slid beneath them, Key spoke again. “The trauma unit is standing by. They’ve given us permission for a hot landing.”
Letty’s shallow breathing stopped suddenly. Lara dug her fingers deep into the child’s neck but couldn’t feel a pulse.
Jack Leonard cried out in alarm. “What is it? Doctor? Doctor!”
“She’s arrested.”
“My baby! Oh, God, my baby!” Marion screamed hysterically.
Lara bent over the girl and placed the heels of her hands just beneath her sternum. She pushed hard several times, trying to stimulate the heart with chest compressions. “No, Letty, no. Fight. Please. How much farther, Key?”
“I can see the hospital.”
She sealed her mouth over Letty’s nostrils and mouth and blew air into them. “Don’t die. Don’t die, Letty,” she whispered fervently.
“Oh, Christ!” Jack cried hoarsely. “She’s gone.”
“Letty!” Marion screamed. “Ah, God, please. No!”
Lara didn’t even hear their hysterical cries. Her attention was focused on the small body as she pushed rhythmically on the narrow chest and alternately rendered mouth-to-mouth resuscitation.
When she felt a blip of a pulse, she gave a shout of relief. The child’s chest rose and fell as her breathing resumed. Lara continued to render CPR. The pulse was feeble but her heart was beating again.
“We’ve got her back!”
Key set the chopper down.
The trauma team approached, ducking the rotor blades. Lara relinquished her patient and helped hold Marion back as they hustled the child onto a gurney and into the emergency room. They followed, but a nurse intercepted them and directed them into a waiting area.
“I want to be with my baby.” Marion strained toward the disappearing gurney.
“I’m sorry, ma’am, you have to wait out here. She’s getting the best medical attention possible.”
Lara nodded understanding to the nurse. “I’ll see to her. Thank you.”
Together, she and Jack got Marion into the waiting area. He spoke to her soothingly. “I’ve got to go call our folks, Marion.”
“Go ahead. I’ll stay with her.”
“No,” Marion said, firmly shaking her head. “I want to be with Jack.” She couldn’t be dissuaded. Supporting each other, the couple shuffled off to locate the public telephones.
“Is the kid going to make it?”
